Hope
by Greenish Violet
Summary: Russia's and Greece's relationship is long-winded. A story of love, deceit, and suffering. Main pairings: Russia/Greece, Russia/Byzantine Many side characters and pairings. Rated T, will go up to M.
1. Chapter 1 Marriage

Okay~ This is my first big hetalia fanfiction ever. It's quite a complicated piece, depicting Russia's and Greece's history together ever since their very first meeting. There are both yaoi and het pairings, and a lot of lolhistoriness. Two major character OCs! Please read and review!

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A pearl bead fell off a dress. It wasn't just any dress, though.

It was a wedding dress. Long, in beautiful vivid colours, and accompanied by a heavy, golden crown. A little girl squeaked, and lifted the pearl, stuffing it in the curls of her gown, looking around suspiciously, and running away, to the crowded streets.

Everything was bustling with life. When one oblivious watcher asked what was the matter, all he got in reply was looks of disbelief, and small huffs, as the people continued working, mournful looks on their faces.

A voice, resounding from the very depths of the palace, was settling around the streets. A high-pitched scream, that only a woman could let out.

"Why me! Why should I marry a barbarian such as him? I'm a Roman, porphyrogenita princess!" the aforementioned princess Anna shouted, pacing around the room, her ladies of honour running behind her, trying to reassure their mistress.

The door knocked, and Anna turned to it abruptly, regaining her composure, and straightening her shoulders. "Enter."

A young girl walked in the room timidly, but there was an air of power around her. She looked up, to show a pair of bright green eyes, sparkling with grandeur. She didn't seem any older than sixteen, her body still firm, undeveloped, and teenage. She stared right into Anna's eyes, without a hint of fear. "I heard that you object to the wedding?" she asked, although it seemed more like a statement.

Anna stood equally straight, and nodded. "Such blasphemy has never happened before. A princess? The very sister of the emperor, marrying a barbarian? There is no way I can accept this."

The girl just gave a small, knowing smile, and twisted a long, brown lock of her hair, crossing her arms over her chest. "It is not your choice, Anna Porphyrogeneta. You might be the emperor's sister, but you're not the emperor. Lord Basil decided this for you, as well as me. It's for my best interest."

"Roman, you have to understand! You're getting married to a barbarian too!" Anna squeaked out hysterically. "He probably has a hundred wives, and I'll just be added into a harem! I'll never see home again! I'll never see... you again."

"Would you prefer an Arab then? Maybe I could give you to the Sultan. He wouldn't say no, I'm certain about that." The girl threatened, the glint in her eyes more terrifying than it had ever been to Anna.

The lady's eyes filled with unshod tears, but she still stood her ground. "Fine. I'll do as the emperor and you command."

The young girl with the name Byzantine Empire nodded again, satisfied. "Good. Anna... Slav is too dangerous to stay alone. You've seen that he holds a big part of our house... We need to control him. Or else, you will all perish," she said, and turned on her heel, lifting her heavy garments, and gracefully walking away.

The young girl retired to her own set of rooms, a remote area in the palace, painted in soft, silky ciel, and covered with luxurious golden ornaments. Her maids rushed to her with small, tiptoe steps, and began removing her clothing in complete silence, until she spoke up. "Is my wedding dress completed?" Her steely voice echoed in the large, silent room.

"Yes, my lady," the highest in rank of the maids replied, and offered the nation a small bow of her head. Byzantine dismissed it, and walked forth to her bath. As her skin was soaked in warm water, and her limbs gently scrubbed clean, she drifted off to think.

That boy... the one she had fought against so many times. She always cherished the thrill that boy gave her in the battlefield, when his dark, swirling eyes lit up into a maze of violets, that had pulled many weak men to their doom. Her emperor knew better than to fight him again, with the Arabs everywhere, and Bulgaria becoming stronger, and more of a threat every second, they didn't need another enemy, from the North, nonetheless.

She lifted her leg lazily, for her maid to scrub it into perfection, with a small sigh. "My lady... How do you feel about this marriage?"

Byzantine bit her lip, and looked up at the ceiling. Beautiful, magnificent paintings were everywhere on the flat surface. "I have nothing to say. It's all His Majesty's will. He does it for my best interest, after all."

Although... marrying her to a young, inexperienced boy, was not the best Byzantine could ask for. She was looking for a true lover, not a child she'd have to tutor.

A small smirk made its way to her face. Maybe, just maybe, the child would be better than she expected... Well, if he wasn't, she would just do anything she wished with him... A new toy was never a bad idea. "Kievan Rus', huh... We'll see..." she whispered, and threw her hair back to allow her maids to wash it.

"Sister! Sister Roman~!" A small, squeaky voice was heard, as a boy crashed onto the floor of Byzantine's tub. Only ten, a bright, goofy smile on his face, sparkling green eyes that matched Byzantine's, and dark brown hair, with a stray curl that somehow could never be tamed.

The maids didn't even bother scolding the child, already used to his indecent entrances into his sister's bathroom. "Greece, what happened?"

"Will you play with me tomorrow, Sister? Will you, will you?!" the boy inquired, bouncing on the slippery floor, falling on his face once again.

Byzantine gave a short laugh, and shook her head negatively. "I'm sorry Greece... Tomorrow is Sister's very special day... She's getting married to someone." The lady explained to her little brother with a nod.

Greece's expression was crestfallen. Tears started forming in the child's big eyes, as a look of horror was slowly settling on his features. "M-Married? But Sister... is too strong to get married! You won't leave me sister, right? You'll never leave me, no?" Greece ran to his sister, clinging to the arm dangling out of the bathtub.

"No, Greece, I'm not leaving. I'm marrying Kievan Rus'. He'll be spending quite a bit of time here, as you can imagine, from now on."

The kid's eyes widened, and he blinked once. "You mean... Slav, right? Why do you even need to marry him, Sister, he already spends too much time over at my house!"

"I have to. Lord Basil says it's for our own good. We'll also turn them to the path of the Christ, brother. As we should." Both the teenager and the child crossed themselves, and sighed.

Greece pouted. "You will spend time with me, yes?"

The girl giggled, and nodded at Greece's question. "Of course I will, silly. Now, go away... I have to finish my bath, dear."

"Oh! Yes Sister!" An angelic smile appeared on Greece's face, as he skipped out of the room happily.

Byzantine frowned. Tomorrow, she would be led into a white marriage. She rose from the bathtub, allowing her maids to dry her skin, and lead her to her sleeping chamber, where she was dressed in heavy sleeping gowns, and tucked in her bed. After a few long hours of thoughts plaguing her mind, she gave her body to the hands of sleep, hoping there would be no one to awaken her the next day.

The marriage went on according to plan. Princess Anna Porphyrogeneta was given to the ruler Vladimir, who agreed to be baptized as a Christian. The ceremony was filled with luxury and grandeur the Slavs that were present could not possibly comprehend. On a golden throne, high above everyone else, stood the emperor, a satisfied smile painted on his face. He had made sure the Slavs would not only stay harmless to him, but also give him their unending resources, something the Empire lacked.

Next to him, in a lower seat, sat the two nations. Byzantine, standing straight and tall, like a warrior should be, while the smaller Kievan Rus' couldn't stop fidgeting, and staring at the beautiful lady next to him.

"U-Um... Miss Roman?" the boy stuttered out, blushing, and looking away.

Byzantine smiled softly, turning to the younger nation. "Yes, Kievan Rus'?" she asked, looking over the boy, trying hard not to stare.

It was true, the child she knew had grown quite a bit, and very nicely so. A body of about... fourteen, she'd risk, seeing the other's lanky frame, and first hints of puberty in his breaking voice. Ash blond hair, short and messy, framing soft, exotic features dipped in pure white skin. And on top of it all... Those eyes. Those deep, young, merciless eyes. The windows to the soul of a condemned man.

Byzantine looked away, biting her lip. 'I shouldn't be thinking that... He's so young...'

_You were young too._

'That's different, mother.'

_Despicable. My only daughter, treated like she has no rights. _

'Mother! Things are different now!' Byzantine tried to push her mother's voice away. She had taken only her looks after all. Everything else, including her rulers, land, and attitude belonged to her father.

_Remember what that man did to you. _

Byzantine shivered. She closed her eyes, her entire body shaking. The man with the turban, smiling widely, walking closer so slowly, it seemed like forever. She, on the floor, coughing up blood, her armour tattered. Red drops on white flowers around them. He, kneeling between her legs, and holding them, bruises forming on her thighs. Leaning down, his nails digging in her skin. Screams she didn't know she could produce, turning to humiliated silence. Leaning down once again... And then...

A little gasp escaped her throat, turning the boy's attention to her. "Miss Roman?" he asked, in his soft, childish voice, his fists clenching.

"It's nothing, just a shiver..." the girl replied uneasily, nodding. The deep, violet eyes began to examine her, and the child shook his head.

"Isn't the most important factor for a marriage to trust your partner?" little Kievan Rus' inquired once again, a small smile tugging on his lips.

The girl scooted an inch away, seemingly rearranging her dress, when the Emperor decided to speak. "Nations, stand." He commanded, and the two stood, in about the same height, staring forward. After a long-winded speech, the Emperor dismissed the two nations, and they obeyed instantly, Kievan Rus' with small, reluctant steps following after Byzantine, who paced to back to her side of the palace.

"Miss Roman?" he scrambled after her, trying hard not to step on his long, cream-coloured scarf.

"Stop calling me that, Slav..." she said icily, glaring at the smaller boy.

Rus' stopped, tilting his head to the side. "Then what shall I call you?" he asked, a pout on his soft features.

"Anything but 'Miss'. Is that what you call your opponents?"

The boy folded his hands over his chest and followed, in deep thought. A deep blush spread on his face as they walked in the other's bedroom. "W-Well... D-Don't you have a r-real name?"

Byzantine halted, and turned around, looking at the small boy, elegant eyebrows raised, and hands on her hips. "My name... I guess I should tell my... husband. It's Zoe."

The boy tried it on his tongue, causing Zoe's pale cheeks to redden. "Zoe... It means life, am I right?" When she nodded, he smiled, and spoke his name. "It's Ivan."

Zoe nodded again, in acknowledgement, and walked to the bed, removing her ornate sleeveless coat, and letting it fall, her body following suit, falling back on the bed. The younger boy got the message at once, dropping his own fur coat, and gulping, his feet moving as slowly as they possibly could. "W-W-We're going to... C-Complete the marriage?" he asked, stuttering, his face red as Byzantine's dress.

Byzantine turned, and gave a firm nod, taking a few steps closer, stilling in front of the teenager. "Obviously." She breathed out, looking at the floor.

A rough, trembling hand rose to her chin, and cupped it, making her look up. "You shouldn't look down... We're not humans." Ivan asked of her, staring into her green, vivid eyes.

She gulped, and brought her hand up to caress Ivan's cheek. "But we live with their rules."

The boy stared at her, and with a small nod, he leant in, and touched his lips to Zoe's, capturing them in a feather-light, awkward kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him in, smiling softly against his lips, as her eyes slowly fell shut, allowing the rest of her senses to take command.

"Please... Take care of me..." his light, childish voice pleaded between sloppy, untrained kisses.

"I will."

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And that's all for chapter one! Hope you liked it! Now for some notes.

-The marriage between the ruler of Kievan Rus Vladimir and Anna Porphyrogeneta of Byzantine Empire is a true event, occuring at the end of the 10th century.

-Byzantine Empire was called the Roman Empire at the time.

-Porphyrogeneta is a title for the direct relatives of the current emperor. Anna was the emperor's sister, and the only Porphyrogeneta to be married to a foreigner.


	2. Chapter 2 Break

And chapter 2 is up~! Please red and review~

This chapter is about the Schism, between Catholic and Orthodox church. Meaning~ New OC.

I'm going to keep a strict timeline with this story, so, this chapter is set in 1054.

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"I'm tired of your fake beliefs, you godless bastard!"

"Well, I'm even more tired of you and your stubbornness! May you burn in hell!" Vatican screamed, and slapped a roll of paper on the table.

Byzantine glared, and did her best to stop from punching the annoying kid back to Rome, settling for hitting the other square on the head with a similar roll of paper. "Here you go! I won't recognize you anymore!"

"Oh wow. Should I be offended, that a godless, old bitch won't recognize me?" the boy mocked, and looked up at Byzantine with an arrogant smirk.

The woman had decided she'd had enough. "Get. Out. Of. My. House. _Now._"

Vatican just laughed. It was quite a sight, to see that little boy release such an ominous, sadistic sound. A pair of mismatched brown and golden eyes stared up at Byzantine, along with a raised eyebrow. The child's face was pale, smooth, and free of hair, framed by a cascade of dark brown. He was engulfed in invaluable robes that glowed with his every move. "Remember that, Roman Empire, you will fall. And you will fall by my hand."

"We'll see about that. _Go away._" Byzantine snapped, barely holding back from grabbing a guard's sword and driving it through the other's abdomen, so he could finally see his insides.

Rus, hidden in a corner next to Greece, peeked out at his wife arguing with the kid. His big, purple eyes widened at the sight of his beloved Byzantine so enraged, and he winced.

"That's not good..." he whispered to little Greece, and grabbed the child's hand, nodding.

Little Greece nodded back, glaring at the small boy standing in front of his sister, mocking her. "You bastard..." his high-pitched, small voice hissed out.

Rus turned to glare at Greece, putting a finger on the kid's lips. "Don't you dare speak like that again, little one," he ordered with a glare and a small whack to the child's head that seemed to pay off.

Greece quickly looked down, trying to avoid looking into the taller teenager's terrifying eyes, rubbing the back of his head, pouting. "Yes Van-van."

Rus just smiled at the nickname, and turned his attention back to his wife throwing a hissy fit. "She's not even on her period..." he winced again, fidgeting a bit in his place.

"..Period?" little Greece decided to ask after a nod of comprehension.

"...Yes Hera. Period." Rus replied, without giving any other explanation, a shudder running through his body as he saw Byzantine throw a comb at Vatican. Vatican threw a bottle of perfume that she dodged expertly. '_Damn it Zoe... You'll kill the kid..._'

Ivan's prediction soon became very, very plausible, when Byzantine grabbed her longest sword from the wall, and pointed it at Vatican.

"We're through!" she declared loudly, and Vatican flinched, backing off a few steps, but still staring up at her challengingly.

"Right back at you!" Vatican shouted on top of his small lungs, making his voice sound like a mouse screech.

Ivan chose that particular moment to interfere, uttering the most unorthodox battle cry one could think of. "I-I beg your pardon. . ."

"_What!" _Both Byzantine and Vatican snapped at him, glaring at the poor blonde.

"U-Um. . . You sort of can't say you're through. . . Because. . . Roman is my wife. . Ehehehe. . ." he stuttered out, laughing nervously and disappearing around the corner, away from the glares the two of them were pointing at him, to where Greece couldn't stop giggling.

"You idiot!" the child squealed out between mad giggles stopped by a harsh whack on the head. "Owww. . ." Greece complained, rubbing his head.

Rus just leaned back against the wall, blushing, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout. "He's not allowed to say that to my wife. . ." _Then again, that's not the problem here. . ._

"What, you're jealous of the shorty?" Byzantine asked, smirking at Rus, standing right in front of him.

Ivan blinked, and peeked around the corner. The room was the same. . . The big bed, the office, the benches. . . But there was no Vatican to be found. "...You didn't poison the kid and dump the body, did you?"

"Of course not!" Zoe snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "He'll see. . . It was a bad idea to break up with me. . ."

Rus sighed, hanging his arms forward, his head facing the ground. "Stop saying that. . ."

"And I repeat, jealous?" She smiled widely, eyes shining as they stared at the male's.

Another sigh left Ivan's mouth, and he shook his head. "Nope. I just hate that guy. . . Why couldn't he be like Venice? All helpful, and smiling, and filled with commerce and adventure!"

"Because he's a stuck up little bastard, who thinks he can be number one. . ." Byzantine spat out, filled with spite and disgust towards the childish nation. _He can't hurt me._

Ivan smiled a soft, knowing smile, and reached up to cup his wife's face. "Don't worry, dear. You'll always be number one. I just know it." He said, and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

Zoe blushed, while little Greece giggled, and started bouncing up and down. "Sister is blushing! Sister is blushing!"

He was quickly silenced with a glare by two pairs of eyes, equally terrifying, and equally bright.

Ivan turned back to Zoe with the very same smile, the one reserved only for her. "I'll do anything I can, to preserve your glory."

Zoe huffed, and pushed him away. "Do you think I need you, to preserve my glory?!" she exclaimed, throwing her hair back, and strode out of the room like a queen, smirking.

Ivan gave a small bow as she left, and crossed his arms over his chest, smiling. "She never changes..."

"Hey, Van-van?" Greece said, tugging on the other's sleeve, staring up at him seriously.

The older male crouched down, and nodded, smiling at Heracles calmly. "Yes?"

"Is sister really going to be okay...? That fight seemed..." he trailed off, his huge, green eyes staring into the other's, looking for an answer.

Ivan heaved a sigh, and smiled at Greece, petting his hair softly. He never thought Vatican and Zoe would break apart like that, but now that it happened, it was his job to keep the child occupied and free of worries. "Your sister is going to be fine. We just have to work harder, Herc. Yes?"

The child gave a nod, and offered Ivan a heart-warming smile, jumping with a salute. "Yes!"

Ivan smiled back, finding the child's good mood contagious, and with a pat on the shoulder, he walked after Zoe, smiling.

_It's all going to be okay._

Or so he thought.


End file.
